In Death 06 - Vengeance in Death

Friday?"
    "Saturday afternoon. Lunch and a matinee." She let out a breath, worked up a smile again. "I suppose I can confess, as we're all women. I'd gone to quite a bit of time and trouble with my appearance. And I was terribly nervous. Lawrence and I have seen each other outside of class a few times, but always with art as a buffer. This would have been our first actual date. I haven't dated in some time, you see. I'm a widow. I lost my husband five years ago, and... well. I was crushed when he stood me up. But I see he must have had a good reason. Can't you tell me what this is about?"
    "Where were you on Friday afternoon, Ms. Morrell?"
    "Shopping for my outfit for Saturday. It took me most of the day to find just the right dress, shoes, the bag. Then I went to the salon for a manicure, a body polish." She lifted her hand to her hair again. "A little highlighting."
    "Summerset claims your engagement was for Friday noon."
    "Friday." Audrey frowned, shook her head. "That can't be. Can it? Oh, did I mix the dates?" Obviously distracted, she got up quickly and hurried into another room. She came back moments later with a slim silver-toned datebook. As she coded in, she continued to shake her head. "I'm certain we said Saturday. Yes, that's what I have here. Saturday, twelve noon, lunch and theater with Lawrence. Oh dear." She looked at Eve again, her face comically distressed. "Did he come on Friday, when I was out? He must have thought I stood him up, just as I -- "
    She started to laugh then, sitting down, crossing her legs. "How absurd, and the two of us with our pride and feelings crushed just because we didn't have the good sense to call and verify. Why in the world didn't he at least leave a message at the door?"
    "I couldn't say."
    "Pride again, I suppose. And shyness. It's so difficult for two shy people to manage." Her smile faded slowly as she studied Eve's face. "But surely this isn't a police matter."
    "Summerset is involved in an investigation. It would be helpful if we could verify his movements on Friday."
    "I see. No, I don't," Audrey corrected. "I don't see at all."
    "I can't give you a great deal of information at this time, Ms. Morrell. Did you know a Thomas Brennen?"
    "No, I don't believe so."
    You will, Eve thought. By the evening newscasts everyone would know of Thomas Brennen and Shawn Conroy. "Who else knew about your date with Summerset?"
    Audrey's fingers tangled with her necklace again. "I can't think of anyone. We're both rather... private people. I suppose I did mention to my beauty consultant when I made the appointment that it was for a special occasion."
    "What's your salon?"
    "Oh, I always use Classique on Madison."
    "I appreciate your time," Eve said and rose.
    "You're welcome, of course. But -- Lieutenant, was it?"
    "Yes. Dallas."
    "Lieutenant Dallas, if Lawrence is in any sort of trouble... I'd like to help however I can. He's a lovely man. A gentleman."
    "A lovely man," Eve muttered as they headed back to the elevator. "A gentleman. Right. Penthouse floor," she ordered as the tube closed them in. "I want to go over the scene again. Set your recorder."
    "Yes, sir." Efficiently, Peabody clipped the minirecorder onto her starched lapel.
    Eve used her master code to bypass the police block on Brennen's door. The apartment was dim, the outside light blocked by security screens. She left them in place and ordered the lights to bright.
    "It started right here." She frowned down at the bloodstains on the carpet, the walls, and brought the gruesome image of a severed hand into her mind. "Why did Brennen let him in? Did he know him? And why did the attacker hack off his hand? Unless..."
    She circled around, moved back to the door, eyed the direction of the bedroom. "Maybe it went this way: The killer's an electronics whiz. He's already messed up the cameras. Can't take a chance that some bored security guard scans discs before he can do the job here then get back to them. So he's taken care of that. He's smart, he's careful. He can get into this place easily enough. Bypass the codes, pop the locks. That'd give him a kick, wouldn't it?"
    "He likes to be in charge," Peabody offered. "Could be he wouldn't want to ask to come in."
    "Exactly. So he lets himself in. What a thrill. The game's about to begin. Brennen comes out, from the kitchen most likely. He's just had lunch. He's caught off guard, and he's a little sluggish from the tranq. But he grew up on the streets, he grew up rough. You